


French Verbs

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: BDSM, Français | French, M/M, Riding Crops, Spanking, Whipping, too tired to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian uses unconvential methods to teach Ciel French. Badly written. Check tags for warnings and stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Verbs

“Être: to be. Je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, nous… nous… nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont, elles sont.”

Ciel sighed with relief as Sebastian wrote something and flicked the page; he’d done it. He’d finally memorized some part of this damn language.

“Good. Now give me avoir.”

The earl almost slouched into his chair out of despair – almost. It would be bad etiquette to slouch, even if only in the presence of one’s butler.

“Avoir: to have. J’ai, tu as, il a, elle a, nous avons, vous… avez, ils sont-”

“Ont. ils _ont._ ”

Ciel huffed in frustration, “that’s what I was saying!”

“You said ‘ils sont.’ That means they are, not they have.”

“They sound the same. It’s unfair. This whole language is torture.”

If Sebastian were human, he might have sighed or raised an eyebrow. True to his demonic nature, his only reaction was to give Ciel a telling stare that the earl, and only the earl, could read like a book. “I hate this language. I refuse to learn it.”

Quite suddenly Sebastian stood, and Ciel watched as he walked the width of the room to lock the door and returned to the desk; “perhaps we should try an alternative method. Strip.”

Ciel’s eyes widened, but Sebastian held his ground. He obeyed, shedding the garments with shaking hands. The butler watched with as much interest as the first time he’d seen Ciel do this for him, but snapped out of his daze when his young master was done and gently guided his young body so that he was bent over the desk with all of the weight on his elbows.

Sebastian greedily licked his lips, taking in the sight before him and producing a riding crop from… Well, Ciel didn’t see from where; he was a demon after all, he probably somehow fitted it into his jacket. He’d probably been planning to do this all week, the dratted creature. The earl’s thoughts might have continued to spiral into a never ending list of abhorrent names for Sebastian, but the demon gave his spine a feather-light stroke with whip and it took all of Ciel’s strength to keep his lips sealed and not satisfy his butler. Not yet, anyway.

“Give me être again.”

Ciel gave a short, bitter laugh, realising in full where this would lead – as if it hadn’t been obvious from the get go.

“Être: to be. Je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont, elles sont.”

Sebastian traced his name on Ciel’s back with the leather tab, disappointed he’d managed the verb just fine – although on the flipside, that meant Ciel would be held in more suspense. Perhaps it was a good thing.

“Bien. Now give me avoir.”

“Avoir: to have. J’ai, tu as, il a, elle a, nous avons, vous avez, ils _ont,_ elles _ont._ ”

“Formidable, you’re improving already.”

Ciel grumbled something wholly offending and quite unsavoury under his breath – not words young gentlemen should be using, and Sebastian gave him a sharp tap on his rump. It didn’t hurt Ciel, not in the slightest, but it reminded him of his place in this room and he fell silent.

“Give me aller.”

‘Fuck,’ was all Ciel could think. He’d not practiced aller for over a week now. But he took a deep breath anyway and composed himself; “Aller: to go. Je vais, tu vas, il va…”

Sebastian noted the nervousness in his voice, a sudden and welcome change.

“Elle va, nous… vallo- ah!” Sebastian cracked the whip down with incredible speed and power, aiming for and hitting Ciel’s rear where it most hurt with ease and scary precision.

“Allons, young master, _nous allons_. Now, aller from the beginning.”

Ciel ground his teeth together, opening his eyes again and taking a steadying breath. When he spoke, his voice lacked conviction, “Aller: to go. Je vais, tu vas, il va, elle va, nous _allons,_ vous... vous… vous- a-ah!”

The whip came down again, and he turned his head to glare at Sebastian, “what did I do to deserve that?!”

The demon smiled back cruelly, “you hesitated. Do you know the correct conjugation?”

Ciel paused for a minute, desperately trying to think, but his mind was a mess of ‘stop hitting me,’ and ‘fuck me.’ There was no way in hell he’d give a correct answer, “…No.”

“It’s allez; vous allez.”

“Aller; to go,” his voice had regained some of its usual confidence, but not nearly all. He spoke slower too – although not too slowly, lest Sebastian think he was hesitating again. “Je vais, tu vas, il va, elle va, nous avons, vous allez, ils… vont, ells vont.” A shaky breath rushed from his lungs as Sebastian made no move to hit him again.

“Très bien, now give me finir.”

Shit. _Shit._ He did not know finir at all. Sebastian could tell he’d not practiced from how his body went rigid again. ‘Good,’ he mused, ‘more fun for me.’

“Finir; to… to-” The butler hit him again in precisely the same spot and Ciel howled – although he shamefully admitted that it sounded far more like a moan than a cry of pain, and his cheeks flushed the most delicious pink in his embarrassment.

“This is the easiest part of the verb, my lord.” Sebastian dragged the leather tab on the end of the whip of the forming bruise, then shifted himself so he could pay Ciel’s other cheek a little attention.

Ciel took a deep breath that did little in the way of calming him, and started again “Finir; to finish. Je… finis, tu finis, il finit, elle finit, nous… finons– h-ah!”

“Nous finissons, young master,” he half laughed, watching Ciel whimper as he tapped the bruise with the whip.

“N-nous finissons, vous fini… fini-” the whip came down again and Ciel nearly screamed, “I don’t know it, Sebastian! I don’t know this!”

“Vous finissez, ils finissent, elles finissent. Start over.” The butler sounded unamused, but Ciel knew it was all a façade. He loved this.

The earl held back a whimper, clenching his hands into small fists, “Finir: to finish. Je finis, tu finis, il finit, elle finit, nous… ah!” the whip cracked against his bare skin. “Don’t hesitate!” Sebastian barked from somewhere behind him, as he screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember what he was doing, “nous fissons, vous finissez, ils…” The whip came down on him, twice now, and his upper arms gave out. He fell forward onto his chest, trying to pull away weakly as Sebastian wrapped an arm around him and pulled him back up. The demon swiped over his lower abdomen, brushing the tip of his dick and drawing out a moan that turned him red. He hadn’t realised how hard he was, and now he was painfully aware. “Finish conjugating the verb.” Ciel struggled to focus between his pain and his desperate need for release, “i-ils finissent, elles finissent.”

“Good. Now give me faire.”

Ciel wracked his brains for information, searching for anything at all he could say about ‘faire.’

“Faire: to do. Je… ah!” Sebastian brought the whip down mercilessly and Ciel fought to recall the correct conjugation, but his memory was jogged and he began running through the various forms of the verb, “Je fais! Tu fait, il fait, elle fait, nous-” The whip came down hard again, forcing a loud sob from Ciel as tears glistened in his eyes.

“Enunciation, Ciel. Speak clearly.”

Ciel couldn’t keep going like this; he was fast approaching his breaking point. “S-Sebastian, I-I can’t…”

The demon struck him again, “give me faire correctly, and I’ll end the lesson.”

The boy felt hot tears rolling down his face, and he wished he’d removed his eyepatch as it fast became uncomfortable.

“Je fais. Tu fait. Il fait, elle fait. Nous Faison. Vous faites. Ils font. Elles font.”

The earl let out a relieved sob as Sebastian placed the whip down on the table, and flipped Ciel, guiding him back onto the desk. He wrapped his slender fingers around Ciel’s cock, pumping it roughly a few times to drive him over the edge. Ciel came, panting and moaning, one blue eye fixed on Sebastian in a steady glare.

“Something the matter, young master?”

Ciel grunted, refusing to honour Sebastian’s question with an answer.


End file.
